Returning from the Shadows
by ForeverSirius77
Summary: The First War. The Wizarding World was kept in darkness and war for over a decade. But what if Halloween of 1981 hadn't ended it, and the war had continued for years? What if things had happened differently and a family's lives were saved? An AU fic.
1. Prologue: Reflection and Remembrance

_Disclaimer__: Anything you recognise does not belong to me, however much I wish that it did. Instead, it all belongs to J. K. Rowling – I'm just borrowing them all right now. However, anything you do not recognise does belong to me, unless stated otherwise. _

_Summary__: It has been over five years, yet he still remembers. The memories, regardless of time, are still fresh._

_Author's __Note__: Yeah, here it is, another fic. This one is an Alternate Universe story, set in the midst of a First War that didn't end on Halloween of 1981, for reasons to be revealed within. And a "Thank You" goes out to __**Emma (**__**hermione-granger4life)**__ of MNFF for beta-ing this story! So, as I don't have much to say in this first author's note, I'll just let you get onto the story. Therefore, I present for your enjoyment, the _Prologue _of _Returning from the Shadows, _entitled, _Reflection and Remembrance.

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**Returning from the Shadows**

**By ForeverSirius77**

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**Prologue: Reflection and Remembrance**

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_16 November 1986_

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Winter was just starting to truly begin on the cool, mid-November night. The clouds overhead hinted at possible storms, while the winds that blew throughout the land had a biting chill to them. Most of the streets were thinning in their people-population, as everyone had started heading home, it not being too safe to wander the roads too late after sunset.

But the paranoia and fear was nothing new to the brown-haired man who walked down the street, heading not for his home, but for the warm pub at the end of the path. Having been a part of a war that had been raging for nearly fifteen years – more, if some of the rumours were to be believed – and watching friends and colleagues succumb to horrendous death and pain had hardened the once-soft man. His normally kind face now held a permanent, harsher tone to it, his kind smile not nearly shown as much as before. Brilliant blue eyes shone out, taking in his surroundings as he walked, and a hand stayed wrapped around the cool wood of his wand in his pocket, the magical instrument ready to be pulled free within a second.

Still, he supposed a part of him ought to be thankful he hadn't suffered as much as some others had. While he had lost close friends, it was true, he was not alone – he hadn't lost absolutely everything – like some of the other families that had been hit hard by the war. Not all of his friends were gone, though his mother and father had died years ago, and he couldn't help but smile as he thought of the young, black-haired boy whose green eyes and innocent, six-year-old expression seemed to bring a sense of hope to him.

_Harry saves us all, _he thought, a brief smile appearing on his face once again at the memory of his best friend's son. _He's the only reason none of us have given up. He's what we fight for. _

The small boy, Remus knew, was the pride and joy of his parents, who never seemed to pass up a moment to spoil their son. However, such actions never seemed to turn Harry into anything resembling a rotten child. Such seemed a bit surprising to some, but for those who knew the family best, Harry's normal upbringing wasn't a shock. Not that Remus could claim he did much better in the 'Don't spoil Harry' department, of course. Every one of them – James, Lily, and Remus – couldn't help but love the child, who had been their light in the midst of darkness when he was born and who continued to fill that role over six years later.

He had brought the adults back from the edges of grief and despair over and over through the years, whether it was the death of Order friends like Marlene and the Prewetts, or the sights of horrendous carnage that graced the front page of the _Daily Prophet _after the Death Eaters had been behind a massacre. When both the elder Potters and Evanses passed away, Harry had been there to keep his parents from succumbing to the same darkness of loss and pain that threatened to overwhelm them both.

When threats of spies within their group were revealed, and suspicion fell upon friends, threatening to tear them apart; when Dumbledore had told the Potters of the death sentences placed upon their family; when a friend had confessed to succumbing to fear and turning to the darkness, only to be found executed – there was no other word for it – three days after saying he couldn't do it anymore …

Harry had given every one of them a reason to continue the fight.

And even when Sirius had been taken –

Remus closed his eyes, swallowing, as the memories of that night, over five years ago, swam to the forefront of his mind. The Fidelius Charm had been performed just two days ago, with himself acting as the Potters' Secret Keeper, and everyone had felt the plan was flawless. There was no longer a spy in the Order and every known (and even some that had been _unknown _to Remus before now) protective ward that could be placed around a home had been installed at Sirius's. Regardless of the dangerous times and the risks they were all taking, there shouldn't have been a way for the charms and wards around his friend's home to be broken.

But they had been.

_There was a brief chime that rang through the small house, signalling that someone was seeking Floo entrance. Remus rose from his seat at the table, leaving behind his half-full plate of dinner, and removed the charms keeping the visitor locked out. A moment later, his silver beard flecked with black soot, Albus Dumbledore joined Remus in the chairs next to the fireplace. _

_Remus watched Dumbledore for a moment, neither wizard having said anything more than a brief "Hello" and other minor greetings since the headmaster had arrived. Dumbledore looked older than Remus ever remembered seeing him, even after watching him lead the Order and help keep the Light side of the Wizarding World from falling irreversibly into the shadows that threatened them. His wise face was heavy with fatigue, the lines standing out more starkly than ever in the lighting of the room. But what perhaps worried the twenty-one-year-old werewolf the most was the complete lack of the headmaster's customary twinkle in his eyes. _

"_Sir, what happened?" he asked, not being able to stand the silence anymore. "It's something bad, isn't it?" _Well, of course it is, Remus, _he thought. _Everything is always bad news these days. _Remus pushed the inner voice aside as he realised Dumbledore was answering him. _

"_There was an attack, just outside of London," he said. "Aurors didn't arrive until after it was over, it seems, and the Dark Mark had already been fired into the sky. There were obvious signs of a battle; the house was very nearly destroyed by the time they arrived."_

"_Who – Who was it?" Remus muttered, the question sticking in his throat. He didn't want to think of the one person he knew who lived 'just outside of London'. Sirius was protected perfectly well; there would be no way for the Death Eaters to have found him, especially not this soon. _

_Dumbledore sighed, his eyes closing for the briefest of moments before he fixed them back on Remus. It was almost like the older wizard was steeling and preparing himself, but Remus didn't want his mind to go to the meaning that such an action seemed to indicate. _No, _he thought. _It's not Sirius … It can't be … _And he prayed to whoever might listen that Dumbledore wasn't going to confirm Remus's fear. _

"_It was Sirius."_

_Remus couldn't bring himself to speak, the three words just going over and over in his mind. It couldn't be real; it just couldn't be. He must have misunderstood the headmaster; for surely Dumbledore had not told him Sirius had been killed –_

"_He – He's dead?"_

_A nearly imperceptible shake of the silver-haired wizard accompanied the words that Dumbledore spoke to his former student – and friend. "Remus," he started, pausing as if to force himself to utter news that would be even worse than his confirmation of the attack on being Sirius's place. _But that isn't possible, _Remus thought. _Nothing could be worse than my best friend dead – Unless –

"_He was captured, wasn't he?" The question was barely muttered, Remus's voice only slightly above the volume of a low whisper, but the words seemed to echo around the room, reverberating in and out of both men's ears. Dumbledore's answer, likewise, felt the same. _

"_He was."_

Remus reached the pub just as the memory faded, stubbornly blinking away tears that threatened to fall every time he thought of those few weeks in 1981. While it was true that five years had passed since that night, it was just as true that none of them had really gotten over the fact of what happened – And they didn't even really _know _what had happened. The Aurors hadn't been able to gather anything that could answer questions, the only evidence telling them that a battle had occurred and, obviously, Sirius had been taken by the Death Eaters.

Searches turned up nothing, the Order's own spies had no knowledge of his whereabouts, and the war raged on. Voldemort and his followers still attacked, and the Order of the Phoenix, even in the midst of grief for lost companions, still fought. For all appearances, it seemed Sirius had just vanished into thin air.

"Your drink, sir."

Remus tore his mind from the memories, accepting the mug from the young server with a nod of thanks. As she walked away, he glanced at his watch, seeing that it was approaching ten in the evening. He hadn't originally planned on being out this late, having already made plans to be in Godric's Hollow early in the morning, but at the moment, he couldn't bring himself to care.

Raising his glass in a toast, he drank a long swig of the liquid within before returning it to the table.

"Happy Birthday, Sirius," he whispered, toasting once again the friend who would have been twenty-seven years old today.

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_Author's__ Note__: Well, there you have it, the start of another new fic, and one that's been floating around in my head for over six months, as a matter of fact. I had planned out a lot of this fic's main ideas at first, but then realised that I didn't like some of them, so significant changes were made to the plot outlines before I started writing. Therefore, what's being written is quite different from the Version One of the plan. But hopefully, none of these changes will have a negative effect. And now, I'd really appreciate knowing what you think!_

_--ForeverSirius77_


	2. Chapter I: A Surprising Offer

_Disclaimer__: Anything you recognise does not belong to me, however much I wish that it did. Instead, it all belongs to J. K. Rowling – I'm just borrowing them all right now. However, anything you do not recognise does belong to me, unless stated otherwise. _

_Summary__: It's the end of school for many, and several young adults are about to leave the safety of Hogwarts' walls and fully enter the Wizarding World for the first time. And society is growing darker day by day. In the midst of it all, six students receive an offer._

_Author's __Note__: Well, here it is. The first chapter for _Returning from the Shadows _is now here. It's much longer than the prologue in terms of length, and the second chapter seems to follow that strain as well. A big 'thank you' goes to __**Amber0-o **__of MNFF for beta-ing this chapter. Now, I'll just let you get on to the story itself. I present for your reading enjoyment, _Chapter I _of _Returning from the Shadows, _entitled, _A Surprising Offer.

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**Returning from the Shadows**

**By ForeverSirius77**

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**Chapter I: A Surprising Offer**

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_June, 1978_

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The summer season was already starting to announce its arrival as warm rays of a bright, afternoon sun shone down upon the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Fluffy, white clouds floated across the blue sky, while a slight breeze blew through the trees, keeping the temperature from approaching an uncomfortable level. Birds chirped from their perches on branches, and the still waters of the lake showed their occasional disruption as a tentacle of the giant squid broke the surface.

Numerous students had found a place to relax outside, taking advantage of both the nice weather and the fact that exams had ended just the day before. They would all be returning home within the next week, starting the summer holidays once again before returning to their education within the castle's walls.

Well, _most _of the students would be returning in September.

Of the eight students that could be seen sitting around the large beech tree near the lake's shore, however, only two would be coming back to Hogwarts for the next year. The other six had finally finished their N.E.W.T.s, and were now on the last days of their final year in the Wizarding school. They would fully be entering into the Magical society as adults once the week was completed – a fact that they all faced with some sort of mixture of excitement and anxiety.

Hogwarts' Head Boy and Head Girl were reclined against the tree's trunk, James Potter's arm laid casually over the shoulders of his girlfriend, Lily Evans. There was no longer a sign of Lily's vehement hatred towards the Quidditch star, a fact that amused the entire school quite a degree, especially the friends of the couple. Sitting next to them was a sixth-year student by the name of Evelyn Grace, her long, black hair an equal shade to the ebony locks upon the head that lay in her lap. Sirius Black had started dating the dark-haired Gryffindor around seven months ago, but with the way the two acted, one would think they'd been together for years. The relationship of Sirius and Evelyn was just as well-known as that of James and Lily, though each for slightly different reasons – James and Lily for their previous history and present love-sickness, Sirius and Evelyn for their comfortable, always-knew-it-would-happen attitude.

Across from the tree sat another couple: Remus Lupin and Jessica Young. She was also a seventh-year, but unlike James, Lily, Sirius, and Evelyn, Jessica wasn't a Gryffindor. No, the dark-skinned Seeker was a skilled player and gifted student from Ravenclaw, who had battled Lily incessantly (but good-naturedly) in the grade department for the title of Head Girl. The redhead had pulled ahead in the end, however, but the two had remained friends since their fifth year, when both were named Prefects. It wasn't until the previous March, though, that Remus had finally worked up the courage to ask Jessica to Hogsmeade. The two had been dating ever since.

Completing the group around the beech tree on this summer day was the final couple, made up of a seventh-year Gryffindor and a sixth-year Hufflepuff. Peter Pettigrew and Mary McAdams had been dating for just over two months, having gotten together after being assigned a partnered project in Herbology. Peter and Mary lay lounging on the grass on the other side of James and Lily and across from Sirius and Evelyn. Mary kept putting a hand up to brush her frizzy, red hair from her freckled face, while Peter was messing with a spare deck of cards.

"I can't believe we've finally finished," said Jessica, stretching herself out on the grass next to her boyfriend. "Seven long, tiring years – and two hellish sets of exams – are now completed."

"You know, a part of me feels like I just found out about magic and everything just a little while ago," said Lily, leaning against James's chest. "But, in reality, I've known I was a witch for almost half of my life, and the other part of me feels like I've been here forever."

"Actually, Lily, I think it's the same way for a lot of Muggle-borns," said Remus as he looked at the Head Girl. "They've always felt a bit like they didn't fully belong in the Muggle world, like they know that they're different, in a way, or that something is missing, so that when they come to Hogwarts, it's like they're complete."

"Either way, it's been seven years of schooling, and it's good to be finished," sighed Sirius, his eyes closed as he kept his head in Evelyn's lap, his girlfriend's fingers twisting through his hair. He opened his gaze, however, when she suddenly stopped and swatted him on the shoulder.

"Will you all stop talking about how wonderful it is to be finished?" she asked, glaring at the six seventh-year students. "Mary and I still have another year to go, after all."

All of them laughed as Evelyn's pale face formed a pout – though the smile that was trying to break free caused the emotion to fail, and she, too, joined in the others' laughter.

"Aw, Eve, you'll be finished before you know it," said James, still chuckling. "And then you'll be sitting out by this tree next June, thinking that it felt like only yesterday you were an eleven-year-old midget waiting to be Sorted – OW!"

James sent a glare towards Evelyn as she picked up another rock (the previous one having already found an impact on James's head). The other members of the group had burst out laughing once again, and Evelyn just smiled sweetly at the older boy, the rock staying in clear sight. "You were saying, James?" she asked.

"Nothing."

The Head Boy's response just sent the group into more laughter, laughter that increased as Mary glanced up from her book and muttered, "Actually, I think _everyone _looks like a midget when they're eleven. Evelyn wasn't the only one."

Evelyn's rock found another home against the cover of Miss McAdams Charms text.

"Oh, such violence!" exclaimed Jessica, a large grin on her face as she watched Evelyn reach for another rock, only to have her search interrupted by Sirius's hand grasping hers. "Is there a reason you weren't one of Gryffindor's Beaters?"

"I've been asking her that question for months, Jess," said James.

"And he hasn't gotten an answer yet," continued Lily. "She'll just smile and look all secretive about it."

Sure enough, as everyone looked towards Evelyn, a secretive smile had found a home on her face, her blue eyes twinkling.

"But surely you know the answer, Sirius." Jessica's eyes went to the black-haired Marauder as she spoke.

Sirius, on the other hand, wasn't even given a second to respond as the other three Marauders exclaimed a "NO!" to Jess's statement.

"Or, if he does know, he isn't telling," Remus elaborated.

Sirius grinned. "Everyone's entitled to a secret," he said.

"And you're saying that Evelyn's secret from you is as unimportant as a Quidditch position?"

Once again, laughter filled the students as James shot Lily an incredulous look at her statement. Every one of them knew that Lily was just as competitive as the next witch and that she had a love of the Wizarding sport in her own right, but compared to James's fanaticism concerning the game, she might as well have had zero interest. But there were still certain buttons of her boyfriend's that Lily couldn't help but pushing; it was just too much fun _not _to do so.

Their laughter and peaceful time of enjoyment, however, was interrupted as another student approached the group. Angela Michaels was a sixth-year Ravenclaw, and a good friend of Mary's as well.

"Hey, Angie!" said Mary, glancing up at the new arrival. Her greeting was soon echoed by several more "Hello, Angela" or "Hey" statements from the others. "What brings you over here?" she asked.

Angela smiled. "Hey, everyone," she said. "Actually, I'm only here to deliver a message. I just passed Professor Dumbledore in the corridor, and he wanted to know if I knew where you all were. He was looking for you – well, most of you, anyways."

"What's the message?" asked Lily. "Or did he not say?"

"No, he said. He wanted to see James, Sirius, Remus, Peter –"

"What did you four do _this _time?" sighed Evelyn, glaring at the four boys in the group, as did the other three girls. All four Marauders, however, each held an innocent and angelic expression on their faces.

"We didn't do anything!" exclaimed James.

"Or at least, not yet," muttered Sirius, unfortunately loud enough for the girls to hear. Evelyn's glare intensified as her blue gaze locked on her boyfriend.

Angela interrupted the inquisition, though, before it intensified. "It wasn't just the boys!" she said, directing everyone's attention back on her. "He also wanted to see Jessica, and you, Lily, in his office."

The six summoned students looked at each other, confused expressions evident on their faces.

"What about Eve and Mary?" asked Peter, glancing at the two other girls.

"He didn't say," answered Angela, shrugging. "I assumed it was a whole 'seventh-year' deal or something."

Once Angela had finished, she took a seat next to Mary, who had made her way over to Evelyn. James, Lily, Sirius, Remus, Jessica, and Peter all got up from their very comfortable positions on the grass and, bidding farewell to the other girls, headed back up towards the school and the Headmaster's office.

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"Ah, there you are. Please, sit down."

Upon entering the Headmaster's office and receiving Dumbledore's invitation to take a seat, all six students seemed to sit at exactly the same moment as their companions. Lily and Jessica chose the large sofa nearest the large, open windows, through which came the sounds of the numerous students still lounging out on the grounds. Remus sat near Jessica, with Peter taking the chair to his friend's left. On the other side of the room, Sirius had grabbed the seat nearest the door and James had relaxed into the comfy chair that sat the closest to the Headmaster's own desk. All twelve eyes turned to meet Dumbledore's gaze as the old wizard began to speak.

"Now," he said, looking at each of his students in turn. "I am sure that all of you are somewhat curious as to why I have called you here." Six nodding heads were the only response given to the Headmaster's statement. "And I am just as sure that you also wish to return to the relaxation that comes from a student's completion of their exams as soon as possible." The older wizard's blue eyes held their characteristic twinkle as he spoke, though the light soon dimmed slightly, an action that caused the summoned students to pay closer attention.

"Firstly, I will say that none of you are in any trouble," said Dumbledore, his gaze moving from Lily and Jessica and around the rest of the room to take note of the four boys. "Or, at least, you are in no trouble that I'm aware of." Innocent expressions covered the faces of all four Marauders, although everyone in the room had long since lost the capability to be fooled by their angelic charming. They knew better.

"However," continued the Headmaster. "The doings of students are not the reason that I asked to speak with all of you," he said. "But before I get to the main part of this conversation, allow me to ask you all a question." The attentiveness of the students grew. "What all do you know of the current events happening in the Wizarding World?"

Quiet fell over the group, and it was clearly evident that the tone of the conversations had changed. Things had quickly left the light-hearted greetings and humorous tones, now entering instead into those far darker realms of the world's current dark times. Only the continued ticking of a nearby clock could be heard, each successive _tick … tick … tick _showing the passage of time, as the six students exchanged several glances with each other.

James and Lily, as well as Remus and Jessica locked gazes in that special way that couples do, with silent discussions taking place between them. Nods and shakes of heads could be seen, and it wasn't long after the pairs had finished that the directions of gazes changed, and quiet conversations of friendship took place. Jessica met Lily's eyes, while Sirius, Peter, James, and Remus managed their own silent brotherly communications.

"Well, we really only know what the _Daily Prophet _is saying," answered Lily, the first of the group to break the quiet, ceasing the silent conversations and speaking aloud. "The number of deaths are increasing almost daily, it seems."

James nodded. "He's not just going after Muggles anymore, either," he said. There was not a need for anyone in the room to be told the identity of 'he'. "I mean, he hasn't exactly _stopped _doing that, but Dad says that the number of witches and wizards that have been hurt or killed has grown, too."

"He's targeting everyone now," whispered Jessica, her voice quiet, almost as if they were speaking of a forbidden secret, yet it was still clear enough to be heard by all present in the room. "All except his followers, that is."

"The Ministry's really starting to call it a 'war' more and more often now," Peter muttered. "And that's just happened in the last year or so, I think."

Dumbledore's silent nod told his student that he was correct in his guess.

"Basically, Professor," said Sirius, breaking the brief silence that had fallen on the group and bringing everyone's attention to himself. "I'd say that we know pretty much what everyone else knows."

Albus Dumbledore nodded, exhaling a sigh. "Yes, that you do, Mr Black," he said, though his voice was so quiet that the others didn't know if he was actually addressing them or just speaking to himself. "But I have called you all here today to tell you a bit _more _than just what the rest of the world knows," he said. "As well as to present you with an offer."

"An offer, sir?" asked Remus.

The old wizard nodded once again, sparing his student a small smile as he did so. "Yes, Mr Lupin, an offer. But I will get to that in moment, I promise." He folded his hands on the desk in front of him and leaned forwards, his blue eyes focusing on every one of the six young adults seated in his office before he began speaking again.

"For the past seven years," he said, "you have been kept sheltered, for lack of a better word, within these walls. I have done my best to try and keep the trials of the outside from greatly impacting the learning done inside Hogwarts, but all of you have already come of age – all of your classmates have come of age, as well – and you are now considered as adults in the Wizarding World. By the end of the month, you will no longer be a Hogwarts student, but rather a fully trained member of society. You will be entering a community that, like every other, has its problems and difficulties. But unlike every other community, ours is, as Mr Pettigrew stated, within the midst of a war that, I fear, will not be one to be ended swiftly.

"You will be entering a world that has changed so much in the past few years, and I'm sorry to say, it hasn't always been in a positive manner. But trials, and darkness, and difficulties are all part of humanity. We all must take the circumstances that are dealt to us and try to make the best of them," continued Dumbledore. Not a single member of his audience dared to move, so captivated they were by the Headmaster's words.

"Had I been capable of it, I would have ensured that none of my students entered a world like the one you and your classmates are about to enter. Fear and terror should have no place in a young person's life, but unfortunately, that is the state in which our world presently resides. However, it is times like these where some of humanity's greatest strengths are discovered. Some of the world's truest heroes were found in the darkest of times, and I believe we are within another of those times."

Dumbledore unfolded his hands and popped a small candy into his mouth, enjoying its flavour. James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, Lily, and Jessica all remained sitting, their positions barely having changed since the conversation with the Headmaster had entered such serious territory. All six of them were well aware of what the world had become, and not a single one of them didn't feel some level of trepidation that they would be entering such a dark and unsure society.

The future for all of them truly was a fragile and uncertain thing.

Sirius and James would be starting their Auror training at the beginning of July, barely a week after officially leaving Hogwarts. Both had already been notified the previous week of their acceptance into the program and would complete their training in just a year and a half. (The Ministry, due to the growing intensity of the war, passed the law creating the Aurors' Expedited Program just last summer. Training now lasted no longer than two years, rather than the usual three.) Lily had received her acceptance into the Healer's program just two days ago, while Jessica was taking a job at Gringotts. Peter had accepted a position in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, working as a junior assistant to the Deputy Head of the Department, and Remus would start work at Flourish and Blotts in August.

"Um, I'm sorry, Professor," said Lily, the silence growing heavy on the group as each fell into their own thoughts. "But, what exactly are you saying?"

The older wizard smiled. "Yes, I did start to go off track a bit, didn't I?" he muttered. "Very well, I will get to the main reason why I asked for you all." He paused for another brief moment before continuing.

"Each of you already know a degree about the state of the world at this time," he said. "And I promised to both give you more information and present you with an offer – an offer, I want to make clear, that each of you is perfectly free to refuse. And you do not have to make your decision this moment, if you wish to think upon it for a while."

All six students nodded their heads in understanding and waited for their Headmaster to reveal his information.

"Like I have already stated, I do not believe that this war, this time of darkness in our world, is a brief and easy-to-quickly-overcome part of history. Unfortunately, recent events – as well as previous knowledge and experience – have led me to believe that it is much greater and severe than that. The Ministry of Magic, I'm afraid to say, does not fully share my degree of concerns, however, and therefore, I have started a, shall we call it, a 'resistance' of sorts, against Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters."

Silence reigned over the group when Dumbledore paused. The students all traded their own looks with each other, much like they had previously in the meeting. Silent conversations passed between the boys and girls, the couples and friends, before Remus broke the quiet by addressing Dumbledore.

"So, it's sort of like a type of militia, sir?" he asked.

Dumbledore made no movement for the briefest of instances before he slowly nodded. "I suppose you could call it that, Mr Lupin," he replied. "A resistance, a militia, an order … all those terms would suffice, I guess."

"Does it have a name, professor?" All eyes glanced at Peter before returning their gazes to the Headmaster, awaiting the older wizard's answer.

He smiled. "Why yes, Mr Pettigrew, it does. It is called the Order of the Phoenix."

"Like life coming from death," whispered Lily. "Like good things coming from bad, light from the darkness."

"Very insightful, Miss Evans," said Dumbledore, his blue eyes twinkling as they met Lily's green orbs. A faint blush started to creep up the redhead's cheeks as she smiled. "Yes, there is symbolism with a phoenix, and with this particular group, I believed it was appropriate."

"This Order," said Jessica, glancing up at her Headmaster before quickly lowering her gaze back to her hands, almost as if she was hesitant to speak what she was thinking. "It's not Ministry-sanctioned, I take it?"

Dumbledore paused before answering, keeping his attention on the dark-skinned Ravenclaw as he spoke. "In a way, yes, Miss Young. The Order is outside the Ministry, but it is not outside the law."

"But what does that mean?"

Sirius jumped in with his answer to Peter's question before anyone else could speak. "It means that it's the organisation that is going to get things accomplished. It doesn't have to deal with the normal bureaucracy and red-tape of an actual government, but normal humane laws still apply; they're not rebels or criminals, after all. An organisation like the Order is what's going to be needed to actually win this war."

"Mr Black is correct, Mr Pettigrew," said Dumbledore upon surveying the dark-haired student. "Our members play to each of their strengths, and they cover for each others' weaknesses. They are a diverse group, of course, but every one of them has the very same goal: They want to see this war won in the favour of the Light side.

"And now, it comes time for my offer." Dumbledore leaned back in his chair behind his desk and folded his hands in front of him. "I am extending each of you an invitation to join the Order of the Phoenix."

The silence that fell upon the group this time was perhaps the heaviest of all that afternoon. Dumbledore just simply reclined back in his chair for a moment, his eyes taking in the appearances of the young witches and wizards before him. The sound of ticking from the nearby clock seemed to grow louder once again as the sounds of outward talking ceased. Soon, the direction of Dumbledore's gaze changed to that of a letter upon his desk, although every once in a while, the older wizard would glance up towards the six students that had just received his offer. (Of course, if they were all honest with themselves, most had guessed the conversation was heading in just such a direction when mentions of the Order first came up.)

One would have thought, upon quickly looking at the young witches and wizards, that something had happened and they had been Petrified. Both Jessica and Lily remained as still as stone on the sofa, while Peter's mouth had fallen open in shock before he realised and quickly shut it. Remus's brow was furrowed in thought, as if he was trying to weigh every positive and negative of the decision he was faced with, while both James and Sirius seemed to be communicating mentally, with only a slight shake or nod of their heads every once in a while. It didn't take too long, however, before the two dark-haired boys seemed to come to a decision and they turned their attention to the rest of their friends.

James shared a brief look with Lily, and in that short instant, he knew what she had decided. In truth, he guessed, she had probably made her decision the very second Dumbledore had first mentioned the Order. With a single nod of his own, he told Lily that he felt the same way.

Sirius glanced at Remus, the silent question passing between the two friends. _Are you accepting? _The werewolf's small nod, an action that Sirius mirrored, gave each an answer. Jessica, too, it appeared, had agreed to accept (though the lost colour in her face showed her nervousness well enough).

Peter watched as his friends each silently decided to accept Dumbledore's offer to join the Order, and while the largest part of the blond-haired boy was ready to issue his answer of "Yes" just as much as the others, he couldn't completely erase that certain feeling of fear that twisted its tentacles around him. He knew he wasn't the smartest, or the quickest, or the bravest, or the best. He was an average wizard, and Peter Pettigrew knew it. And most of the time, that simple fact never bothered the fourth Marauder.

But as he watched his friends come to their decision, not a single one of them (save Jessica, who had gone a little pale) showing any sort of hesitancy, he once again felt slightly different. He felt separated from the others in a way that he never had before – or at least, he didn't think he'd felt this way before.

Were the others _really _not afraid at all?

Peter could never figure out the answer to that question, no matter how many times he asked it and in what ways. But in the end, when the others all had their attention on him and were awaiting his answer, he figured it didn't matter. They were his _friends, _his _brothers, _and he would do anything to protect them.

_After all, _he thought, _courage comes from mastering a fear, right? _

And Peter returned the gazes of his friends … and nodded his own acceptance.

Together, the six students told their Headmaster of their unanimous decision, a decision which received a smile and nod from the old wizard.

* * *

_Author's__ Note__: All right, that concludes the first chapter for this fic. The second one is on its way to my beta, with the third being written. As soon as both are completed, you'll get another update. (In the meantime, though, you can check out my new little Sirius/Hermione one-shot, _Come Back To Me, _and let me know how you like it.) Okay, I'll stop. _

_A thank you goes out to _SWChica2005, Emily, Princess in the Pea, anonymous, cherrycool, ambush99, _and _Morgan _for leaving a review on the previous chapter, and additional thanks goes to _Princess in the Pea, Phoenix Flare, ambush99, _and _cherrycool _for either adding this story to their favourites or alerts (or both). I greatly appreciate it! And to everyone else who reads this story, thanks for doing so. Please, don't hesitate to share your opinion. _

_--ForeverSirius77_


	3. Chapter II: A Boring Day

_Disclaimer__: Anything you recognise does not belong to me, however much I wish that it did. Instead, it all belongs to J. K. Rowling – I'm just borrowing them all right now. However, anything you do not recognise does belong to me, unless stated otherwise. _

_Summary__: There are night-time wanderings for one man and "normal" days in Diagon Alley for others. But things don't always stay peaceful and calm – if they ever were as such in the first place. _

_Author's __Note__: And here's the second chapter. Its posting was stalled a bit by the fact that I was having trouble with the third one, but since that has since been worked out, _Chapter II _has finally arrived. A large amount of 'thanks' is extended to __**Emily (Amber0-o) **__of MNFF for beta-ing this chapter! But for right now, I'll let you continue onto the story, so I present for your enjoyment, _Chapter II _of _Returning from the Shadows_, entitled, _A "Boring" Day.

* * *

**Returning from the Shadows**

**By ForeverSirius77**

* * *

**Chapter II: A "Boring" Day**

* * *

_Early August, 1978_

* * *

Night had fallen several hours ago, the warm golden sun sinking below the horizon to start the country's plunge into darkness. Shadows fell over the grounds, and trees swayed in the warm breeze that blew through their branches, giving movement to the wooden guardians. A crescent moon hung in the sky, its white light contrasting greatly with the inky blackness surrounding it, a blackness that was only broken occasionally by the small, twinkling lights of the few stars that were visible on such a cloudy evening.

Rain had drenched the towns on Britain's eastern side, the great downpours soaking into the green grass, creating large puddles in the holes that dotted the streets. The ground gave a _squelch_ing noise with every step that the young man took as he walked, his previously brand new black boots now filthy and spotted with mud. Dirt clung to the hem of his long, dark robe, a piece of clothing that seemed to be a couple of sizes too large for the skinny individual. The robe's hood hung low on the man's face, keeping his identity a secret, and its ends wrapped tightly around the figure's body.

There were not any streetlamps to help the man see where he was going, as he had passed the edges of town nearly half an hour ago. Only nature provided light for the young man, who had long since decided not to use his wand to cast a _lumos_. After all, he was supposed to remain hidden, supposed to arrive in the shadows and in secret.

It would not be prudent, therefore, to announce his arrival by a lit wand.

Muttered profanities flew from the man's lips as he suddenly stumbled, his foot tripping over a raised tree root and sending him sprawling to the wet ground. By sheer luck – and the use of reflexes quicker than he had thought that he possessed – he managed to stop his face from landing in the nearby mud puddle; however, his knees and the bottom half of his body were a different story entirely. He reached up a hand to grasp a tree branch bending near his head, using the sturdy connected limb to help him regain his footing on the slippery, wet ground.

"Damn it," he hissed, jerking his hand away from the branch, a few drops of blood falling to the mud and grass below from the new cut along his palm. There was a streak of dark red along the branch, a drop hanging on a sharp, intruding bit of bark that had pierced the man's skin. Continuing his quiet cursing, the man searched through his pockets for his wand, withdrawing it quickly and hissing a brief spell, the cut healing instantly.

Pulling his cloak tighter around him, the young wizard continued on his way, his mind going over the only information that he had received about what he was supposed to do tonight.

_The note had arrived early yesterday morning, the light brown owl tearing the wizard from his deep slumber by tapping incessantly at his closed – and locked – bedroom window. Grumpily, he had risen from the large bed and let the annoying creature into his home, removing the single, folded piece of parchment as the owl landed on his desk, its beak dipping into a small dish of water, before taking off without waiting to see if a reply was required. _

_But the young man had paid no attention to the actions of the bird, his gaze held solidly on the letter that he held in his – now shaking – hands. He took a deep breath, like someone who's preparing to plunge into deep waters, before unfolding the parchment square and reading the few words sprawled upon it. _

S,

It is time.

Meet tonight, at one-and-a-quarter before the new – in Harwich.

See to the underside. Put to use the power of Fire and Air to know.

Signed,

M

_Only weeks had passed since the young man was told the secret to these phrases, and where some might have believed the sentences to be random nonsense, he knew better. Knowing precisely what needed to happen, he picked up his wand from his bedside table and, turning the parchment square over to reveal its blank, back side, muttered two spells. A tiny flame shot out of his wand's tip first, landing on the parchment, and it was quickly followed by a thin jet of air, the fire soon disappearing like a blown-out candle in the air's wake. No marks could be seen from the fire's impact with the letter – nothing was scorched or burned black. But the back of the note was no longer bare, either. _

_In the wake of the fire and air, words had started to form in the blank space, sentence after sentence of numbered instructions about what the man should do tonight – where, exactly, in Harwich he was supposed to go, what he was supposed to wear, how he was supposed to arrive, and much more. Everything he needed to be aware of before the meeting tonight was written in the coded instructions on the parchment._

The sound of a twig snapping under his foot broke the man from his thoughts, bringing his mind immediately back to his current surroundings. He had not even noticed how much he had walked while lost in his memories, for he now stood on the edge of the forest that – just moments ago, it seemed – the young man had been in the very thick of.

Large trees stood tall at his back, their branches swaying in the wind, and in front of him stood a clear trail, its pathway just marked with faded dirt – but the footprints that stood out in the drenched mud showed just how much the path had been travelled recently.

He looked up, his dark eyes following the course of the trail as it curved around near the top of a hill and faded from his immediate sight. But the young man did not really need to see where that path ended up just yet in order for him to know what his destination was – and that it was just a short distance in front of him, located immediately at the trail's end.

There would be a single house at the conclusion of the path, a house that was hidden by numerous wards and enchantments – both those of the Light and Dark variety. _(Although, _thought the young man, _there are definitely more of the latter than there are of the former.) _The house would be tall, and it would be old. Large, wooden doors would guard the entrance, their surfaces clean and polished and looking like they would be more befitting on a grand stone manor than on a simple, single-story shack at the edge of a large forest.

Outside appearances would deceive the casual observer, however, for this house had a far darker quality about it. In seeing the house from the outside – and knowing nothing of its purposes – one would think it was a cottage home to an elderly couple, perhaps, a couple who simply sought a small house in the peace and quiet of nature. It was a nice house, a plain house … a _normal _house.

But 'normal' was as far from this house as possible, for what went on inside the walls of the structure was unknown – and believed as nothing more than horror stories and make-believe – by the vast majority of the world. Tales of screaming and flashing lights that local townspeople spread about the house were not believed by most people; it was just their vivid imaginations, surely. Local legends and scary stories to waylay visitors was all that it was.

After all, those stories couldn't be right, could they? Stories of monsters, of demons, and cloaked figures hiding in the shadows? Tales of people who had come too close to the trail's end disappearing, their fates left unknown? Whispers that those who tried to enter the home in the bright light of daytime could never get within a few metres of the place before their walk was halted by a barrier surrounding the house's land? Mutterings that screaming could be heard at night coming from that direction, or that oddly coloured lights sometimes flashed in the sky above the house, or that an oppressive feeling of death and evil seemed to emanate from the simple structure?

No, surely just wild and fantastical stories, they would claim.

But as the young man knew, their claims, of course, would be wrong.

Sighing, he hastily shoved his hands into his robe's pockets, angry that his nerves were causing the limbs to shake slightly. He took a deep breath and slowly, calmly, exhaled the air from his lungs as he took his first step onto the clearly-defined path that would lead to this house that the locals feared.

Severus Snape continued to walk, preparing himself for what lay at his journey's end as he did so.

* * *

_06 August 1978_

_4:20 p.m._

* * *

Diagon Alley was quite busy for early August, the crowds more reminiscent of those that would converge on the shopping area in the last week of the month as families tried to gather all of the supplies their children would need for returning for a new year at Hogwarts. Old and young wizards and witches wandered the streets, darting in to and out of the many different shops lining the cobblestone street as they tried to complete the day's errands before heading home. Small children held onto the hands of their mothers; fathers carried their little boys or girls on their shoulders, allowing the short individuals to see the stores.

A pair of witches conversed outside the apothecary, while a group of young men discussed the latest news about England's International Quidditch team. Discarded copies of the day's _Daily Prophet _littered some of the tables outside of Florean Fortescue's, where an older, silver-haired wizard sat with a young boy who could have been his grandson, both of whom were enjoying chocolate sundaes. Laughter issued from Gambol and Japes, a sound that was soon followed by that of running feet as a couple of teenagers raced down the street, a woman who could have only been their mother yelling after them.

Children stood in front of the windows at Quality Quidditch Supplies, their eyes glued to the shop's fancy display window and the products within. New brooms, new team robes, an all-inclusive Quidditch set … all things that topped nearly every magical child's Christmas list. (It was too bad the holiday was still several months away.) The latest fashion styles were shown in Madam Malkin's windows, the robes made of some of the highest quality fabrics that Wizarding money could buy, and the sounds of hooting owls, mewing cats, and other small creatures could be heard coming from Eeylops and the Magical Menagerie.

It seemed, to the casual observer, that everything was normal in Diagon Alley.

There was nothing about the scenes happening in the magical shopping centre that hinted about a war raging in the Wizarding World, a war where deaths climbed daily, causing the papers to have to make larger and larger sections for their obituaries. There was nothing that hinted that, just the night before, a total of two dozen people – wizard, witch, and Muggle alike – had been killed, some of whose bodies were so mutilated that identification would have been impossible without certain ancient – and nearly forgotten – spells. None of the actions of the shoppers, owners, or employees in Diagon Alley seemed to show any fear that the same darkness that appeared to slowly be suffocating their world could descend upon them.

After all, those kinds of things – those dark, horrifying, _evil _things – happened to _other _people, right?

Well, not _everyone _felt that way, of course. But the Aurors that were stationed at different points in the alley just seemed to make it easier for the people not to fear the darkness. The Aurors, of course, would protect them, should anything terrible happen.

That is, if certain Aurors (or more accurately, one should say Auror _trainees) _weren't currently busy dwelling at the bar in the Leaky Cauldron.

"God, I'm so fucking bored," sighed a dark-haired man as he leaned back in his chair, balancing it on its two back legs. He swiped a few strands of his black hair from his eyes, giving a shake of his head as he did so. He glanced over at the other man sitting next to him, whose own hazel gaze was glued to the pages of the day's paper, a hand raising every once in a while to turn the page.

"Anything interesting in there?"

Silence followed the man's question, his companion not making any move to indicate he had heard. "James?" Again, there was no answer. "Hey," said the wizard, knocking his own hand against the shoulder of the other man.

"What, Sirius?"

Sirius shook his head again, muttering "Forget it", before taking a sip of the beer in front of him. James returned his eyes back to the current article he'd been reading in the Quidditch section – _"Reese Reuter, Legendary English Keeper, Signs to Irish Team" _– while Sirius swept his stare around the pub.

The tables weren't nearly as crowded as they'd been just hours ago, when it felt like every shopper of Diagon Alley had stopped in for a bite to eat, but neither were they as empty as they'd been when the two trainees had first arrived in the early hours of the morning. A group of older witches sat at a nearby table, their heads meeting in the centre as they talked, while another group sat straight-backed and proper on the establishment's opposite side, their faces curled into visual disdain as they looked down upon the other 'commoners'.

A trio of wizards had taken up residence at a table in the back that was mostly hidden in shadows, regardless of the bright sunlight that streamed through the few windows in the pub. The three men had their heads bowed, leaning forwards in their seats, and speaking in lowered, whispered voices. Slight shakes or nod of a head, or a brief swipe of a hand to emphasise a point, would be the only movements that the three made as they spoke.

It was because of groups like these that both James and Sirius, now over a month into their Auror training, had been stuck in the Leaky Cauldron for the majority of the warm, summer day. One of the earliest lessons each candidate in the Expedited Program was taught dealt with scouting and surveillance, placing oneself in the positions to either overhear important information or prepare to protect without seeming like they were anything other than two friends out for a drink. They were lessons where the tests couldn't be given in a classroom, couldn't be set up in standardised trials.

No, they were lessons in which the instructors used reality to test the trainees.

And besides, Diagon Alley was in need of a few protectors – guards, if one will – but the Ministry believed that they simply could not spare some of their best Aurors and members of the Law Enforcement Patrol for such a tedious task.

Thus, it became the _thrilling _opportunity of several Auror candidates to "protect the patrons of Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade" – or at least, that was how Minister Bagnold had phrased the order.

Sirius sighed again, glancing at his watch as he did so to see that only three minutes had passed since he'd previously checked the time. This day was easily becoming one of the longest that the eighteen-year-old wizard had lived, as far as he was concerned. His entire day had been spent in this single pub – in this single _chair, _as a matter of fact – and he would have given just about anything to be outside, enjoying the summer's warm weather, the cloudless blue sky and shining, golden sun … and preferably in the company of a very lovely witch.

It had been nearly an entire week since either James or Sirius had seen their significant other, Auror training keeping them busy almost 24/7. Lily's acceptance into the Healing programs at St. Mungo's Hospital kept her time nearly as tied up as the two hopeful Aurors, and Evelyn had even left the country, her parents taking her on a trip to the States as a reward for her being named the new Head Girl; she wouldn't be back until the end of the month, leaving the two of them barely a few days to spend together before the seventh-year had to return to her final year at Hogwarts.

A shuffling coming from the corner tore Sirius from his thoughts, redirecting his attention to the table near the back, and the trio of occupants that both he and James were _supposed _to have been observing. The group had started to stand, their postures held stiff and forbidding, and the hissed whispers grew quicker, more urgent. One of the biggest in the group started to move next to another, his physical appearance seeming like he was readying himself for a fight. Another of the wizards looked apprehensive, while the third stood tall and proud, sparing a shake of the head to the biggest as he moved forwards.

With a quick peripheral glance at his best friend, Sirius saw that James also had his attention focussed on the suspicious group. A brief nod answered Sirius's silent question to James, and both wizards surreptitiously slipped a hand into their pockets, their fingers wrapping around the hidden wands that were ready to be withdrawn at a moment's notice. Their gazes were now locked on the trio of wizards in the back, whose actions were also starting to draw the attention of other patrons of the pub as well.

Barely a second passed before the biggest wizard had pulled free his wand and fired a spell at one of his companions, the jet of violet light hitting him in the chest and sending him flying back into the table the three had been occupying. Others pulled their wands, James and Sirius included, but the actions were just moments too late.

With a raised wand, the large man shouted out another incantation, shooting a stream of light to the ceiling of the Leaky Cauldron. There was a bright flash of light, blinding the many pairs of eyes. Screams echoed from the numerous witches and wizards within the building.

But everything seemed to fall silent when the explosion happened.

* * *

_5:10 p.m._

* * *

White walls, white floor, white ceiling … Lily Evans was surrounded by white as she walked down the long corridors of St. Mungo's Hospital, her long, red hair pulled tightly back and out of her face. It was a hairstyle the young witch had worn after her first day at the hospital, a day in which she'd spent every other minute shoving locks of hair from her face while she tried to work.

She had just come from the fifth floor, where she'd taken the brief opportunity to relax away from her studies and duties at the hospital. A letter had arrived from Evelyn earlier that morning, the younger witch telling her friend all about her travels on the other side of the ocean, and Lily had wanted to take the time to send a lengthy reply, rather than just a scribbled note that she'd had time for earlier. So, she had decided to take a break and write that very letter in St. Mungo's visitor tearoom.

The long scroll of parchment now sent off with one of the hospital's available owls, Lily was making her way back to the set of offices off of the reception area, where she would resume her studies for the afternoon. Stifling a yawn and wishing more than anything that she could be at home asleep – she'd been at the hospital since six in the morning, after all – Lily had just about made it to the doorway when St. Mungo's front doors flew open, banging against the walls.

A large crowd of witches and wizards came streaming into the reception room, all of whom appeared injured in some way – those who weren't Healers, that is. Some had only minor cuts and bruises, while others lay covered in blood on levitating stretchers, looking barely alive as medical employees rushed them further into the hospital and out of sight. The lesser injured were helping the Healers and assistants with those who were more severe. Puddles of blood began to form on the floor as the people rushed passed, many limping as they tried to overcome their own wounds to help some of the others.

Lily just watched, her gaze seeming to be frozen on the scene before her. Fragmented explanations slowly waded through the fog in her mind.

"—at least five already dead—"

"—just exploded—"

"—entire thing collapsed on top of them—"

"—caused it?"

"—Ministry — reports being taken now—"

Most of the crowd had been taken care of, going to whatever floor was required for their treatment. Those who had been in the waiting room earlier had started to resume their seats, the excitement slowly fading away as things calmed back down. Lily had already turned back towards the door that stood behind her, intending to return to the offices, when her gaze was drawn back around as a second group of racing Healers came running into the hospital.

They had a single stretcher between them, their heads bent over the man lying atop it while they talked and waved their wands, trying to heal some of his injuries as they transported him further inside. He was, by far, the most wounded one to enter from the incident. Lily couldn't get a close enough look at the man to see the extensiveness of his injuries, as the number of Healers surrounding him blocked her view. But if the amount of blood was anything to go by, Lily felt that she did not want to know the exact details.

A couple of assistants were already measuring his vitals, the information appearing instantly on a floating bit of parchment hanging in the air in front of them. The numbers started out slightly unstable … and they only continued to get worse.

"—are falling—"

"—becoming critical—"

But the words of the Healers had started to fade for Lily when, finally, a couple of them moved aside enough for Lily to glimpse the face of the man.

She could no longer clearly hear their words as they tried spell after spell to keep the wizard's vitals up, the numbers slowly – but steadily – falling. Her mind did not register it when Healer Moore exclaimed, "We're losing him!" She did not notice when the group rushed passed her, through another set of doors, down a long, white corridor and out of sight.

She couldn't think, she couldn't feel, and Lily could never remember how long she just stood in front of the door, her eyes just staring at the spot where the group of Healers had stood around the severely injured man. Her mind had stopped functioning the instant she had caught sight of the wizard's face.

For a brief glimpse was all it took for Lily Evans to know the man's identity. Even through all the blood and the dirt, the cuts and the bruises that covered his face and body, Lily knew who he was, for the aristocratic face and long, black hair could only belong to one person.

Sirius.

* * *

_Author's __Note__: And there you have it – the end of the second chapter. The next one is being sent to my beta, with the fourth being written, and like always, when I finish doing both of those, there will be another update. In the meantime, though, you can check out some of my other stories, of course! _

_Thanks to everyone who has read so far, and additional thanks goes out to _SWChica2005 _for leaving a review on the previous chapter, as well as to _Wand of Destiny _and _emmie4is _for adding this story to their alerts. I really appreciate it all! _

_And to every else, don't hesitate to share your opinion of this chapter as well! _

_--ForeverSirius77_


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